


Taming Wild Beasts

by Cave_of_the_mounds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, bratty children, danger to Sam's beautiful hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cave_of_the_mounds/pseuds/Cave_of_the_mounds
Summary: Written for 2 challenges with the prompts: "This is ten times worse than that" and "Nope...nope. Nah. No. Not going there."Silly fluff with Sam and the reader babysitting some rambunctious girls.Also posted to tumblr @butiaintgonnaloveem





	

You flopped yourself back into the front seat making it bounce with the force of it. One hand was raised to your temple, the other clutching the white paper bag that held hope for you for the evening. Sam raised his eyebrows while he looked you over.

“You gonna be okay, Y/n?”

“There’s three of them, Sam. I don’t know how we are going to pull this off. How’d my mom deal with my three brothers and me? She deserves sainthood.”

He chuckled at first, but when you continued to sit there with your mouth drawn into a frown, he stopped, watching you thoughtfully for another moment before speaking up again.

“You’re acting like this will be worse than our last shifter case.”

“This is ten times worse than that. Ugh! I know you don’t believe me. Why are we doing this?”

“Are you really this nervous? After all the things we’ve faced?” You snapped your head up to look at him.

“Hell yeah I am, Sam. Why would I agree to babysit those little wild beasts? This is stupid. I barely see them, so it’s gonna be weird, but then if I somehow fuck this up, my brother will kill me.”

“He’s not bigger that me, is he?” You shook your head side to side, your lips turning up with a slight grin. “Then don’t worry. So, what’s in the bag?” He pointed with his chin while he pulled out onto the road. Your face lit up while you dug your hand in, pulling out a fistfull of colored sweets.

“Candy!” Sam paused before responding.

“Not to be rude or anything, I mean they’re your nieces, but you really think it’s a good idea to bring a bunch of sugar for three kids under 7?” His eyebrows raised again with concern.

“Well, thanks for that. I was not nervous for a whole two seconds there. But yeah. I guess. I don’t know what else to bring. They already have every toy that you can imagine. I think the whole sugar rush thing is bull anyways.” Your shoulders shrugged up with a silent ‘whatever’ gesture. “Oh, turn here.”

Moments later you and Sam were walking up to the two-story brick home. You were still ten feet out when you heard the high-pitched shrieking. It wasn’t the usual terror-filled sound you were used to, this was energetic and laughter-filled. You had to ring the doorbell 4 times before someone acknowledged the extra noise being made in the house. Your brother flung the door open. His face shifted from annoyed to amused within seconds of seeing you while he grabbed you and hauled you in for a hug.

“Well well well, look at you. Can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. You’re going to be fine with the three of them for the night?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m pretty sure we will be okay,” you patted his back then pulled away. “Anyways, I brought back-up.” You gestured to Sam standing slightly behind you.

“Isn’t the babysitter supposed to wait until the parents leave before she brings over the boyfriend?” Your brother teased as he reached out to shake Sam’s hand.

He invited the two of you in. You took in the scene, Barbie shoes wedged into the carpet, crayon markings on the walls. Is that glitter on the ceiling fan? You weren’t sure any adults lived there by the looks of things. Your sister-in-law walked in as a stampede sounded upstairs, making you look around to make sure the walls weren’t shaking around you.

“Oh my god, Y/n,” she said as she embraced you, “You have no idea how grateful we are for this. We so need a night out.”

“I think I can imagine.” You answered while a tiny voice wailed ‘No!’ from another room. “Okay, so, what are we into this year? My Little Pony? Barbies? Do they do tea parties?”

“Princesses.” She replied flatly. “Pretty pretty princesses.”

“Cool, we can handle that. Okay,” you wiped your hands nervously on your jeans, “You crazy kids leave, have fun. Use protection. I think we have enough little feet running around here.”

“Gross,” you brother whined, but he helped his wife into her jacket and headed for the door anyway. They rattled off a few more things about rules and what to do to get them to sleep before practically running out, leaving you and Sam to stare at each other for a moment, somewhat shellshocked, before you heard a huge thump followed immediately by sobbing.

“Well, shit.” Sam scolded you for your language with his eyes before you both walked off to find the source of the dramatic crying.

Whatever the injury was, it was quickly forgotten once you and Sam tracked down the girls. They were ecstatic to see you and were immediately taken with Sam.

“Auntie Y/n brought a giant!”  
“No, he’s a prince!”  
“No, he’s got long hair. He’s a princess!”

They argued, but Sam just smiled while you stared, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do next.

“My Ladies,” he bowed slightly, “I am a royal knight who was sent here to protect the three beautiful princesses from evil dragons and witches,” he got down on one knee, completely at ease and causing the girls to giggle. Their hair was falling from messy ponytails and they each wore sequined princess costumes. The oldest girl looked at you then plastered a huge grin on her face before yelling.

“Auntie Y/n is an evil witch. RUN!” Making all the girls scatter and screech. You were pretty sure the sound would be ringing in your ears for weeks and you winced, squinting one eye. Sam just chuckled as he got up off the ground shaking his head at you.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like you got this, so I’m just gonna…” You motioned with your thumb that you’d be headed out the door and took a few steps back.

“You really are an evil witch,” he scoffed.

Your smart-ass remark was cut off by another high-pitched yell, “You’re supposed to come get us, Auntie Y/n.”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to go get them,” Sam teased, then yelled out at no one in particular, “I’ll save you, princess!”

The next few hours consisted of crying, chasing, biting, kicking, more screaming, a new crayon mural on the wall, an entire toy box emptied onto the floor, two wardrobe changes, a potty accident on the couch, and one of the girls protesting dinner to the extreme that she made herself throw up. Just when you and Sam were sure they were losing steam, they found a second, or maybe seventh wind.

“Little monsters, Sam, I tried to warn you.” You mumbled to him as he readied himself for another wrestling match. He just shook his head at you, keeping his cool and jumping into their game.

After a few more rounds of hiding from the evil witch, you were all sweaty from tickles and giggle fits. The girls asked you to fix their hair and you were grateful that they only asked for ponytails, but it was kind of fun. Not having any sisters of your own, and now being with the Winchesters, girly-time wasn’t something you’d been able to take part in. You busted out the candy, bribing them to sit still while you brushed and worked their hair back into place. Once the last girl was refreshed and ready to play again, she ran a hand over your hair.

“Oh, auntie, can we fix your hair? Then you can wear a crown too.”

They were loud, wild little beasts, but damn it, they were adorable.

“Of course, sweetie. What about Sam? If you fix his hair think he can wear a crown, too?” He had been resting with his eyes closed on the back of the couch, but his head popped up at the sound of his name. You patted the seat next to you on the sofa and he moved over to you, squeezing your hand and giving you the ‘this isn’t so bad’ look.

“You gotta close your eyes.” You playfully closed them and raised your chin, ready for your makeover.

You had no idea how much time passed, but it was relatively quiet, no one was getting hurt or crying, so you were feeling pretty satisfied. Tiny sets of hands moved along your head, occasionally tugging a little too hard and twisting your head in various ways to achieve their goals. You could sense that your hair was sticking in a few different directions, and at some point the oldest girl got out her play make-up set. Now your nostrils were invaded by the fake-strawberry scent of some gloss she was spreading wildly over your lips.

You heard gasping, followed by soft giggles and whispers.

“Are we ready?”

“Yes, you can look now.” 

You slowly opened your eyes and readjusted to the light. You scrunched your face a few times, feeling the sticky waxy makeup over your eyes and cheeks. A grin was fighting it’s way over your face knowing how ridiculous you must have looked and dying to know what they’d done to Sam.

Any worries you had over how you looked only amplified as soon as you saw him. A paper crown taped around his head and his hair pulled back out of his face. They’d drawn a mustache over his top lip and managed puff his hair out wildly with glittery gel. Please don’t let that be glue. If his face reflected yours, it was really as bad as you thought. One of the girls handed you a small, kid-sized mirror and you looked yourself over. Your hair was stuck in various barrettes, there were stickers stuck all over you, your cheeks each bore a bright pink circle of blush, and everything shimmered with fine glitter. Your eyes widened, your jaw dropped open with a silent scream.

I take it back, they are loud, crazy little monsters and I should sick ‘em on Crowley the next time he gives us trouble.

“So pretty!”  
“I’m bored, can we watch Sofia?”  
“Yeah, Sofiaaaa!”  
With a chorus of shouts, the girls abandoned you and Sam to go plant themselves in front of the television.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, revelling in how absurd you both looked before starting to undo the damage the girls had done to your hair and face.

“Since when are stickers this sticky, and how did they manage to get like 20 on my head?” You whined, pulling as gently as you could with tears stinging at your eyes.

“You’ve never been more attracted to me than you are right now, am I right?” Sam joked next to you. Once you were done gawking at yourself, you laughed, turning to Sam, then rubbing your thumb at the drawn-on mustache which thankfully rubbed off easily. Sam, meanwhile, was trying to pat down his hair that glittered with sparkley gel, which was confirmed as glitter glue thanks to the bottle on the coffee table in front of you.

“They managed to knot my hair up pretty bad back here,” he rubbed at a spot at the back of his head. “Can you help me with it?”

You crumpled up the pile of stickers then grabbed a small doll comb to try to work through the knot. You pulled away his hair and immediately saw the problem. You reached up feeling a huge, sticky knot at the back of his head. 

Oh no, oh no no no no.

“Well?”

“Shit. Uhh, Sam?”

“Yeah, Y/n?”

“You’re not allergic to peanuts, right?”

“Umm, no?”

You stumbled for a minute as you tried to figure out how to let Sam know what you just discovered, “Yeah, well I mean, don’t panic or anything, but there kinda, sorta might be a wad of gum in your hair.”

Sam whipped his head around giving you the bitchface he usually reserved for Dean. You turned on your heel to retrieve the peanut butter and a towel, feeling his glare on you the whole time. He slumped in the seat while you slathered his hair with peanut butter a few minutes later. You cleared your throat before bringing up what you knew would be a sensitive subject.

“So, I’m pretty sure the peanut butter will get it out, but, if it doesn’t, I might have to…” He turned and you made a scissor motion with your two fingers.

“Nope..nope, nah, no. Not going there.”

“Okay. Right. I’m sure this’ll work. No problem,” you cringed. You worked in silence for a few moments, sliding the peanut butter over the knotted mess. 

“So...You think if I tell them a bedtime story about hellhounds, I can get out of babysitting again for the rest of my life?” He tensed up and tried to resist, but his shoulders shook with quiet laughter. 

“They’re little terrors, but still not as bad as some of the shifters and ghouls-”

You gripped his hair, bending his head back to look at you and cut him off, “Sam, just remember, shifter goo washes out. I can’t say the same about bubble gum.”

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to challenge you again. Your quiet stand-off was interrupted by a loud crash of something breaking. He rolled his eyes in defeat while you bit back a smirk.

“Okkayyyy girls, time for bed. Who wants a story?” You called out.


End file.
